Who would have thought?
by ShamelessShipper
Summary: Glimpses of events that (totally could have) happened throughout Hogwarts between Hermione and Draco, with the present day being set as their return for 7th year after the war. Afterwards, glimpses of the future. Very EWE, will be smutty in later chapters. If a few small things had changed during the series, this is how I think their relationship would have played out.
1. First Year

"_J.K. Rowling has confirmed that Draco Malfoy teased Hermione because he had feelings for her. He was unable to express these feelings because of his family. During the Battle of Hogwarts he almost switched sides because of his love for her. He would always love Hermione_"

"_I considered for a long time a romance between Hermione and Draco. They're both strong-minded people and Hermione could have helped pull Draco towards the light - been his saving grace - much like Lily was to Snape. However, in the end, I thought it was too much of a plot twist and decided that Ron was her best match_." –J.K. Rowling

**First Year**

"…And the ceiling is bewitched, to reflect what the sky looks like outside. Phenomenal bit of magic, don't you think?"

"Hermione, how do you already know so much about Hogwarts, if you're muggleborn?" A young boy's voice replied.

"I read about it, of course, in _Hogwarts: A History_." Silence. "It was on our school list? Honestly, don't either of you read?"

"Bloody hell, so we skimmed it." A different boy's voice. This one sounded as though his mouth was full of food as he spoke.

"You two would do well to respect Hogwarts. It's very powerful. Did you know it has a charm on it, so that if a muggle happened upon it, he or she wouldn't even be able to see the castle?"

Just then the door to their carriage slid open to reveal a platinum blonde boy with a bored look on his face. He too, like Hermione, had already changed into his school robes.

"What do they see then?" He asked, picking a speck off his robes.

"Excuse me?" Asked Hermione.

The boy looked up then and made eye contact with Hermione. His bored expression flickered for a second, and he swallowed. "The muggles," he began again, with a faint pink tint to his cheeks. "What do they see when they look at Hogwarts?"

"Oh! Just a decrepit old ruin with a sign saying _DANGER:KEEP OUT_ on it." She continued to talk about it with just as much enthusiasm as before. He eyed her with curiosity. He'd never spoken to a mudblood before in person, much less one his own age. He tried to see some distinctive feature that marked her as different. Boils, possibly. But from the honey colour of her eyes to the wild curls she called hair, she was not distinctly different from any other witch he'd met before. She was quite pretty, actually. He rolled his eyes at that thought.

He took an uninvited step forward into the carriage and offered her his hand. "Draco Malfoy."

She stood and took his hand in her own, shaking it and smiling. "Pleasure, Draco. I'm Hermione Granger."

He bowed his head and kissed the tops of her fingers. The contact was just a moment, but he was pleased that when he looked up she appeared to be as surprised by his actions as he felt, and she had a pretty blush on her cheeks.

The redheaded boy in the compartment cleared his throat. "Oi, Malfoy, I'm Ron, and that's Harry."

"Didn't ask." He replied without breaking eye contact with Hermione. Her blush was growing, but she appeared determined to hold his gaze. He was silently impressed with her boldness.

A voice from outside the compartment broke the moment abruptly. "Draco? Honestly Vincent I just saw him come down this way, it's not as if he's got anywhere to hide on a train."

Draco grimaced. "And that would be Pansy. I'd best be off then. I'll see you at the feast, Granger." He dropped her hand and turned on his heel, sliding the compartment door closed behind him.

"He was pleasant." Harry said, frowning.

Ron swallowed the rest of his corned beef sandwich, and shook his head. "Ruddy git, that one. Watch out for him, Malfoy's aren't a nice lot. You two wouldn't know, coming from the muggle world and all, but trust me. Bloody hell, it's lucky you've got me really, to tell you who to stay away from."

Hermione finally sat back down, and looked out the window thoughtfully. "I guess since I haven't any prejudices against him he'll have to be innocent until proven guilty."

Ron looked at her quizzically.

"It's a muggle term." Harry supplied.

Later that evening after the sorting, while Hermione, Ron, and Harry were eating cheerily at the Gryffindor table, Hermione caught sight of Draco Malfoy pouring a generous portion of salt into someone else's drink at the Slytherin table. She sighed and whispered "Guilty then, I suppose," to herself.

"Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Draco was surprised to see the mudbloods hand shoot up into the air without hesitation. Surely if he wasn't certain of the answer (Something to do with sleeping, perhaps?) a mudblood shouldn't know it.

"Sir, adding powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood would make the most powerful known sleeping potion. It is commonly referred to as the Draught of living Death."

Professor Snape cocked one eyebrow. "That is… correct. Five points to Gryffindor."

Draco was horrified, not only had the mudblood been right but she'd gotten points before him, and in potions! He'd already made potions at home with his mother and he knew he was good at it. His parents had no doubt he'd be top of his class, and now this mudblood has already bested him on the first day.

She rose her hand and began speaking again. "Additionally, the link has been made that since the lily used means in Victorian language of Flowers, '_my regrets follow you to the grave_' that the commonly referred to-"

"Miss Granger, while I'm sure the rest of the class has nothing better to do than listen to what I'm sure you think is a very impressive useless piece of information, I on the other hand have a lesson to teach. You will speak when spoken to in my classroom. 10 points from Gryffindor."

She slumped back in her seat looking deflated. Potter sent her a sympathetic shrug. Draco was elated, and felt as though potions would be his favorite class after all.


	2. Second Year

**Second year **

"You filthy little mudblood." No sooner had the words left his mouth then he regretted them. Granger's determined glare flickered for the first time since he'd met her, and he recognized the hurt there. That thought made him even more furious, but not at her. He enjoyed the few opportunities when he got to spar with her, and liked that he could rile her up. The end goal was a fuming and livid Hermione Granger. Actually hurting her wasn't part of the plan. He couldn't figure out why causing her pain didn't feel as good as it should have. Worse was the fact that she was right. She was always fucking right. Draco was aware enough to know that he was a fair flyer, but not foolish enough to think that was the only reason he was on the team. Looking down to the sleek Nimbus 2001 in his hand, he gripped it with white knuckles and scowled. He stormed off the Quidditch pitch even angrier than before, only slightly placated by Weasley's pathetic form puking up mollusks.

Quidditch practice that afternoon was abysmal for him. He couldn't concentrate, his thoughts straying to that damned mudblood again. Why did he give a damn if she was crying? She was inferior to him in every way.

Except that she wasn't. She continually beat his test scores in every class, and it infuriated him. How had a mudblood always gotten the upper hand? He should inherently at least be better at magic than she as well, but she proved herself to be as skilled with a wand as she was while taking a test. He did respect her for that, but it still didn't soften the blow to his ego of being second best. He shook his head. She was a mudblood. He didn't respect her.

Except that he did. As much as he hated her for being what she was, and so unashamedly, he grudgingly admitted to himself that he did have to respect her. Malfoys valued many things, and hard work and intelligence were among them. No one with half a brain could deny that Granger had those both in spades.


	3. Third Year

**Third year **

Draco sat, dumbfounded, as he watched the know-it-all mudblood storm out of class, after already having knocked over a stupid crystal ball on her way. She'd skipped Charms that day, and only hours before that she had slapped him for laughing at the oaf and his chicken. Big day for Granger. She had a fire in her eyes and a pink tint to her cheeks that she only had when she was upset with someone. It was usually him. Trelawney looked like she couldn't decide between being furious or hurt. The psychics face was in a twisted sort of agony, and if it had been anyone else he would have congratulated Granger on making that happen. He smirked. Leave it to her to cause a scene. Reaching up to the small split in his lip her slap had given him, he winced. Admittedly, he was glad she'd chosen this primitive form of expressing her anger rather than jinxing him as she had threatened. Lowering his fingers, he noticed that the spot was still warm. The same Hermione Granger that was a walking encyclopedia had in one day slapped him across the mouth, disrespected a teacher, defaced school property, and stormed out of a classroom. Draco chuckled to himself. He definitely liked the new Hermione Granger. He frowned. What a vile thought.


	4. Fourth Year

**Fourth Year**

She looked beautiful. Absolutely stunning. Well, for Granger, that is. The way her hair tumbled softly in ringlets around her shoulders, and the way they shimmered glossily against her soft blue dress. And ruddy Krum had his hands all over her. What could he want to waste his time on her for? Surely a world famous Quidditch player in the Triwizard tournament could entertain himself with someone other than Bleeding Heart Granger. It infuriated him and he couldn't exactly pinpoint why.

"Drakie, sweetheart," Pansy. Always Pansy. Of course he'd be taking her to this. It was simple. It was expected of him. She had, as he'd expected, taken his invitation to be dates to this bloody ball to mean that they were an _item_. He loathed the thought. Her dress was a deep blue, and he couldn't help but think that he preferred the lighter shade of Granger's dress.

"Draco I realize that The Walking Brain and Krum are revolting, but you've hardly stopped scowling at them to pay attention to me all night."

"I'm just not feeling particularly festive."

She pouted and stroked his arm with her fingertips. He shivered involuntarily, which she interpreted as pleasure. She snuck her hand inside his robe and ran her cold thin fingers up and down his spine.

"Pansy, not here."

She moved to whisper in his ear. "We can go somewhere more private, if you'd like.

He forcefully took a step away from her. "Not anywhere Pansy. This was a mistake. I explained to you that this was just a date to a party, and you said you were fine with that. Clearly that was not the case."

He looked away from her hurt and shocked expression and scanned the crows. Looking, he realized, for Granger. She was no longer on the dance floor, or anywhere in the hall. "I'm going for some air. Don't wait for me."

He left without a glance backward, and no intention of returning. With the night still young, and most of the older students and staff still at the ball, and the younger students sulking in their common rooms, it was one of those rare times where the hallways were nearly deserted. He wandered aimlessly, with no particular destination in mind. He had just rounded a corner when he heard stifled sobs coming from his left. Curious, he ducked behind an alcove concealed by a hanging tapestry. Peering out as the sobs neared him, he realized that it was Granger. She had taken off her dainty shoes, her hair was slightly askew, and her cheeks were flushed. His eyebrows knit together. When she was nearly past him, he made a split second decision, grabbing her wrist and pulling her into the alcove with him, her shoes clattering to the ground.

He silenced her surprised yelp with his free hand. Pinning her between himself and the wall, he saw that tears still clung to her eyelashes, and that the charcoal colour she had used on her eyes was slightly smudged. _Still bloody beautiful though_. The thought came to him before he could stop it.

In the second he'd used to take in her appearance, she seemed to gather her bearings. Her eyes, just visible above the hand he was using to silence her, had turned from shocked, to furious. And she was struggling. Realizing that if someone walked in on them, it would look very bad, Draco knew he needed to calm her. "Granger just, relax, would you? I'm not going to hurt you, alright?" She stomped on his foot. "Fuck, bloody hell Granger. I'm just. I just." He was searching for words. Truth be told, he didn't know exactly why he had stopped her. He'd seen her upset and had been drawn to her. He'd only ever seen Hermione Granger loose her cool in second year when he'd insulted her and this was far worse than that. She bit down on his hand.

"Fucking hell Granger," He pushed his body flush with hers, putting the one wrist he still had a hang of over her head, and effectively stopping all of her movements. She looked at him with pure rage for one moment, before shutting her eyes tightly and waiting for his next move. One tear snaked out of her closed eyes, and he realized why he'd pulled her away in the first place.

"Granger. I just wanted to ask." He cleared his throat, and looked away from her. "Did he hurt you?" It was nearly a whisper, and Draco couldn't believe how soft his own voice sounded. The stiffness in her body ebbed, and he turned his head to look at her. Her eyes were open and she looked shocked, but she was no longer struggling or resisting him.

Cautiously, he removed his hand from her mouth, and still she didn't run. Her mouth was open and she was panting slightly from the effort of resisting him. Narrowing her eyes, he saw the guarded skepticism that was trademark Granger.

"Did who hurt me?" she asked quietly. Draco was grateful that her voice didn't shake, he always appreciated that she was able to compose herself when she had to.

Decidedly looking at a crack in the wall above her head and to the right, he replied."Krum. Did he… You were with him, and now you're a bloody mess and you're crying. Did he hurt you or not?" When she didn't answer he was forced to look her in the eyes. She still stared at him disbelievingly, but there was a softness to her face that wasn't there before. Still she said nothing, so Draco continued. "He's quite a bit bigger than you, and older, and he probably could have, if he'd wanted to.. I mean.."

He was stunned to hear her chuckle softly. Her laugh was light and he could feel her breath on his cheek. It sent a shiver up his spine completely different from the one he'd gotten from Pansy's ministrations earlier. This shiver was from warmth. "No, Viktor did not hurt me. He was a gentleman. Not that I see how this is any of your business, Malfoy." She winced, and he realized he was still flush against her and the wall. He backed a few inches, but kept her wrist above her head.

"Hell Granger, what's wrong with you then?"

_That_ bothered her. "Since when to I report back to you with all my woes and troubles? You're more often than not the source of them. Actually that makes sense, with how narcissistic you are. It would probably be the best part of your day to know just how many people you had menaced. Perhaps a graph would help educate you. And Merlin forbid you show a modicum of-

He hadn't made the decision to kiss her then. It had just happened. One moment she was about to embark on one of her famous tirades, and the next he had his lips gently pressed against hers. She stiffened at the contact, but did not push him away. Only now did Draco realize how desperately he didn't want her to push him away. Gentler than he'd ever been before, he closed the already small distance between them, and was flush with her body once more. This contact felt different, and every inch of him that was touching her felt like it was on fire. Softly, he carefully ran his tongue along her bottom lip, praying that he wasn't pushing his luck. Miraculously, she seemed to relax. Her lips parted slightly, she began to timidly kiss him back.

The hand he had restraining her wrist moved to intertwine their fingers, his free hand found the curve of her waist. She felt perfect beneath the silky material of her dress, and the curve of her petite frame fit exactly right into his hand. For her part, the hand he wasn't holding had slowly, deliciously slowly, slid up his arm and was resting on his shoulder. Draco was being as gentle and slow as he could manage, not daring to break the magic of the moment. But, when her hand on his shoulder suddenly pulled him even closer into her, he forgot that entirely.

He growled as the kiss became more passionate, fiercely pulling every inch of her towards him. He released the hand was above her head to tangle his fingers in her hair. His other hand travelled down her waist, kneading her bottom with her fingers. She moaned softly into his mouth, both of her hands tangling in and pulling his hair. He slid his hand down the length of her thigh, hooked it around her knee, and wrapped her leg around him.

Panting slightly, he pulled back to look at her in awe, massaging circles in the back of her knee with his thumb. "You… Didn't stop me. You. You're enjoying this. You… want this." She said nothing, just stared at him with lust filled eyes. She too was panting, and her lips were swollen. _She looks so sexy right now._ Disbelievingly, he caught his breath burying his face in her hair. She smelled amazing, like peppermint and lavender and something uniquely her. Still she said nothing. He looked into her eyes, their faces inches apart.

"Tell me Granger. Tell me you like this." His hand slid up her leg an inch, his eyes never leaving hers. Pleading with her. "Tell me you want this." Another inch. "Tell me you want…" His hand slid all the way up her leg, and through the thin fabric of her dress, he ran one finger dangerously low on her abdomen, from one hipbone to another. "…this."

She shuddered, and took a shaky breath in. "Yes. I-"

They both heard it. Footsteps approaching from the direction Granger had come from. Draco released her knee and covered her body with his, hoping it wasn't Krum, but ready to fight him if it was. "She's gone mad she has. Blimey Harry, she gets scarier each year." Weasley. He saw Granger's eyes widen at his voice.

"What did you say to upset her so much, anyway?"

"Me? Why is it me? Couldn't _she_ have said something wrong?" Granger scoffed and rolled her eyes at that, and Draco had to fight not to kiss her again right then.

"It doesn't matter anyway, when we finished talking she stormed off crying." Draco stiffened and looked at Granger for confirmation, who would not meet his gaze. "Probably in bed already. Maybe the library. She'll be fine in the morning. Let's just go Harry, I'm done with these bloody robes and this bloody ball."

Draco waited until he heard their footsteps round a corner to take a step back from her. He felt an unpleasant rush of cool air as he lost all contact with her. "Weasley? You were a blubbering mess over Weasley?" Inexplicably, the thought filled him with such animalistic rage. He wanted nothing more than to tear the red-headed buffoon limb from limb in that moment.

"Yes, well, Viktor and I fancied some fresh air, we went for a walk. He returned me to the castle and was a completely polite date. And then Ron made some outlandish accusations and I just- coming from him it was just- I don't have to explain myself to you, Malfoy."

"Seems like you were just about to explain something important to me before the lovebirds walked by."

She blushed furiously and looked at the ground. "Look, I don't know what just happened here, but-"

"Nothing." He said firmly. She looked up, confusion mixed with hurt. "Nothing happened."

He saw her eyes well up and felt the same way he had when he'd hurt her in second year. Again, he was regretting his choice of words immensely. It lasted only a moment though, and she was immediately angry.

"Fine, Draco Malfoy. Leave it to you to be just exactly the person everyone thinks you are. I cannot believe for a second I thought- never mind. Thank you _so much_ for defending my honour when you thought I'd been hurt. Really noble of you. Next time, I'd much rather if you just minded your own damn business."

She grabbed her shoes from the ground and stormed away. This time, he didn't have the will to stop her. The reality of what had just transpired sunk in on him. He had just kissed Hermione Granger. Not just kissed, though. That had been… bloody erotic. She was a goddess when she wanted to be. Hell, she was a goddess all the time. Beautiful and sexy all at the same time.

Draco shook his head. No. This was Granger. Muggleborn, Scarhead and Weasel loving Granger. Granger who had bested him at every class. Granger for whom he had a grudging respect for. Granger who he loved to argue with. Granger who… he was insatiably attracted to.

It took him three and a half years to realize that the reason he was near obsessed with Hermione Granger; teasing her, insulting her, always trying to get a reaction from her, was because he was so bloody fascinated by her mere existence. He groaned and slumped against the wall, sliding down it in a heap on the floor. How had he not realized this until now? Noticing a sparkle of something on the ground by his left knee, he leaned forward to pick it up. One of the shiny jewelled pins from Grangers hair. Of course. It was all so disgustingly tragic.

From that moment he vowed to keep a great distance away from Hermione Granger. He left the alcove in the deserted hallway with renewed vigor, pocketing a shiny hairpin as he went.


	5. Fifth Year

**Fifth Year**

Up until this moment he'd done a fairly good job at avoiding her entirely since the… incident. But here he stood, surrounded by the inquisitorial squad, watching Umbridge interrogate-borderline-torture the members of Potters club they'd managed to round up. She was close enough that he could make out the different shades of toffee and chestnut of her hair as she sat, furious. It was much too close to comfort.

"Draco?" Came the preening and sickly sweet voice of Umbridge. Shit, he hadn't even been paying attention to the interrogation. Potter and Granger were getting up, seemingly waiting for Umbridge to follow. "You are in charge of these… miscreants whilst I am out. See to it that none of them get out of line until the Golden Boy, the Mudblood, and I return."

He didn't know why hearing the older woman use the slanderous word surprised him so much. Until he realized that he hadn't said the word out loud himself for over a year. Not since…

"Of course, as is my duty." Even he hated the way he had to speak to appease this toad woman. He saw Granger make a face after hearing his voice and for a moment their eyes met. They were alive and alert, and somehow Draco knew she was up to something, but had no idea what. He watched as she lead Umbridge and Potter out of the overly pink room towards whatever weapon Dumbledore had been working on.

After they had left he was left with Weasley, She-Weasley, Longbottom, Looney, and the few members of the inquisitorial squad that had remained by his side. He rolled his eyes. Might as well make use of their time together.

He eyed up the four of them, deciding the girl Weasel would be his best bet to get information out of. He'd seen that she had quite the temper on her, and quite the inability to hold her tongue. "So, She-Weasel, what exactly did you plan on doing anyway? What was the grand master plan you and Scarhead have been working on, hm?"

It was Longbottom who answered. "Sod off Malfoy, it's not like we'd tell you either way, is it?" He narrowed his eyes.

"How dare you speak to me like that, Longbottom. Soon you'll all get what's coming to you. I'm sure my father would love to hear about this."

That perked up the redheaded girl. "We'll tell him for you ourselves when we see him later."

"Ginny!" Hissed the Weasel.

"Oh dear Ginny, that might not have been wise." Loony said in a very casual sing-song voice.

It was incredibly unnerving. Draco narrowed his eyes, but it was Parkinson that spoke up.

"Unlikely, Weasley. I happen to know from my father, who will also be there, that Draco's father will be staying late at The Ministry tonight." She finished primly, picking a speck off her sleeve. Draco could have smacked her for revealing so much.

"Exactly." Said the She-Weasel evenly. Silence. Longbottom was staring at his feet looking furious, Lovegood was staring off into space and refusing to meet anyone's eyes, Weasley was openly glaring at his sister and Weaslette was looking at him determinedly in the eyes.

Pansy started giggling shrilly. "You can't possibly mean to say that 6 half-witted children are going to try and flee Hogwarts grounds and break into the Ministry?" Weasley did not answer her, but continued to meet Draco's eyes. She didn't blink. She didn't flinch.

"You're serious?" Draco asked incredulously. Still she didn't waver. He took two quick strides to stand in front of her, their faces inches apart. He saw the same fiery passion in her eyes that he'd seen in Grangers countless times before. He faltered. Granger. She'd be going with them, of course. They'd done stupid things before with their damned Gryffindor bravery, but skipping school to take on a group of angry Death Eaters was something entirely different. This was...

"Suicide. That's a suicide mission, Weasley."

She shrugged. "There are things worth sacrificing for."

"You'll all bloody well die, it's the fucking Ministry of Magic for fucks sake, and-"

The door and half the wall were ripped open to reveal Granger and Potter having returned minus one toad-esque woman. Grangers eyes took in the scene quickly, and with one swish of her wand she had knocked unconscious all other members of the Inquisitorial Squad but Draco, whom she had bound with ropes that erupted from her wand. He silently thanked his choice to have been standing close to the She-Weasel, surely Granger didn't want to risk cursing him in case she hit the younger witch.

"Hermione! Thank Merlin, we were starting to really worry. You took care of Umbridge then?" Longbottom flexed his hands after having had them untied by a swish of her wand.

"That horrible woman won't be bothering us any more tonight." She was all business, undoing Lovegood's binds while gathering up anything they needed from the room. Potter finished untying the She Weasel and cleared his throat to address his group, seemingly forgetting that Draco and the unconscious Slytherins were the room at all.

"We'd best head out now. You know where they are, Luna?"

"I should think so, they are usually grazing this time of night."

"Right then." He hesitated. "You know, none of you have to do this. This is my fight, and I don't want any of you to-"

"Oh sod off Harry, we're all coming. Let's go, you're wasting time." Weasley pushed passed him and they all filed out, Granger last. Draco couldn't hold his tongue anymore.

"Granger, you won't make it out of this alive." She paused in the doorframe, but did not turn.

"Threats don't bother me anymore, Malfoy."

"It wasn't a threat." He cursed himself. She had this uncanny ability to make him unable to hold his tongue around her. She turned to look at him. "What was it, then?"

Draco felt conflicted. He knew she was going to the Ministry where his father was, and so he couldn't exactly wish her good luck. Not that he would. But, since having accepted that he had feelings for her over a year ago, it also pained him to watch her go head first into a fight she was wholly unprepared for against a bunch of Death Eaters. He met her gaze fiercely.

"Just don't die, Hermione." She blinked at him a few times, her determined expression never changing, before she quickly walked the distance between them.

Her lips met his. It was not soft, or tender, like it had been last year at the ball. It was full of yearning, and an unspoken promise that neither of them would admit to. Her mouth opened slightly, and she caught his bottom lip in her mouth. And then as quickly as it happened, it was over, and her forehead was pressed against his, her eyes shut tight. "I won't."

She breathed against his cheek. He could smell her scent that had haunted him since last year. Sweet, fresh, and utterly her. "Hermione, come on! We don't have time!" She stepped away from him, and held his gaze until she was out of the room. As soon as she left the ropes around his arms dissolved, and he ran out of the room to stop them. Where she had been only seconds earlier, was now a completely empty hallway. Draco felt a cold, sick feeling in his stomach. A slight breeze alerted him to a cold spot on his cheek, and he reached up to tough it. Tears. But not his. He shut his eyes tightly, and prayed that she made it out alive.


	6. Sixth Year

**Sixth Year**

He slumped against the cabinet and allowed himself to slide dejectedly to the ground in a heap. Allowing himself a moment of weakness, he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the thing that had been making his life hell lately.

Somewhere distinctly left of him he heard shuffling footsteps and muttering. He peered one eye open and saw someone approaching. As quietly as he could, he grabbed his wand and stood, aiming his wand at the approaching figure.

She rounded the corner, around a large pile of chairs, saw him and froze. She had a frown on her face that only deepened upon seeing him. Her eyes flicked to his wand trained on her, and then bore into his. "Malfoy," She had the nerve to actually sound accusing, when it was her intruding on him.

"Granger."

"Mind lowering your wand?"

"Mind sodding off?"

She scowled. "No, I don't think I shall, as I've every right to be here." She eyed him skeptically, clearly taking in his defensive stance. "Trying to hide something, are we?"

He shifted involuntarily away from the cabinet. "None of your business even if I was, Granger. How did you even get into this room, I specifically asked it for somewhere I could work alone."

She rolled her eyes then. "Brilliant, that's what I asked for as well." He noticed then that she had her book bag slung over one shoulder. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Look Malfoy I don't want your company any more than you want mine, but I'll be damned if you're the reason I don't finish this Charms paper for tomorrow. This place is huge, I'll find somewhere to work far from you, and you can return to whatever it is you were doing."

With that she turned on her heel, not bothering to wait for an answer, and seemingly not caring that his wand was still on her. He scowled. Her snarky attitude hadn't helped his already foul mood. He sighed and was packing up his things to retire, admitting defeat, when her words sunk into him. "…_finish this Charms paper for tomorrow_.." Shit. Shit. Shit. He hadn't even begun that paper, and it was due in no less than 12 hours. He growled at the cabinet, the source of nearly all his problems lately, and stormed off to find wherever Granger had situated herself.

He found her, having transfigured one of the many decrepit chairs in the room into a plush looking armchair, with a small side table on which a cup of tea sat, the steam curling up and disappearing. She had several hanging orbs of light around her head to better read, and was furiously scribbling out a line in her already quite long paper. He stopped short for a moment at the sight. Even though it was Granger in her natural habitat, buried in work, she looked somehow serene with those orbs of light floating around her head. She actually looked quite nice today in general. She shifted on her chair to curl her legs up underneath her, and her skirt rode up to reveal the soft skin from the top of her school socks, about halfway up her thigh. Shit. Draco clutched the blue hairpin that he always kept in his pocket tightly before lightly shaking his head and pushing those erroneous thoughts from his mind. Granger. Muggleborn. Know it all. Granger.

"Granger," he began. She made no move to acknowledge him. He crossed his arms and sighed out, annoyed. "Granger." Again she ignored him entirely. "I will absolutely not tolerate you ignoring me Granger. Now if you would,-

He took a step towards her and was immediately hurled back. He collided with something hard behind him, and simultaneously felt the wind being knocked out of him as well as feeling a sharp pain on the side of his head. He saw Granger look up and gasp, though for some reason he heard no sound. She jumped to her feet, made a quick slashing motion with her wand, and ran quickly to his heap of a form on the ground. A _muffliato_ and a protective charm? Did she always study like that?

"Malfoy!? Shit, why the hell- Oh Merlin, you're bleeding." Her eyes went to the side of his head, where the sharp pain was. He reached up and did indeed feel a sticky warmth there. She got his attention again by producing her wand and aiming it, not threateningly, at him. It was only then that he realized he should really be giving her hell for this.

"Granger, while I'm absolutely thrilled at the prospect of you performing magic on me without my permission, I daresay you've done enough." He glared at her and she had the decency to cringe.

"I'm… sorry." She cringed again. Apologizing to him appeared to make her as uncomfortable to say as it made him feel hearing it. "I didn't think that would happen. I mean, I knew it would happen if anyone came in contact with it, I just didn't think... I just tried to give both of us a work environment free of the other's presence. As for that," she gestured to his head, "I can heal it quickly. Unless you want to go to the infirmary and explain why you were in here and exactly how you got hurt, that is."

He scowled at her. Of course she was right, the old bat would want to know the circumstances under which he became hurt, and it wouldn't do to explain this. He rolled his eyes. "Well get on with it then," Smirking, she scooted a little closer, kneeling in beside him.

She raised her wand to the side of his head, and used wordless magic to heal the gash in the side of his head. Immediately he felt some of the heat ebbing from the area, and the room that he hadn't noticed was swaying slightly stilled. He raised his eyebrows, "Silent healing? That's pretty advanced magic Granger,"

She snorted, which Draco couldn't help but notice, was the most ladylike he had ever heard a snort be. "Are you quite sure you aren't delirious from pain, Malfoy? That almost sounded like a compliment,"

He shrugged, "I almost meant it to be one."

She chose not to respond to that, and raised her hand to check her work on his head. She combed her fingers through his hair, making sure the whole thing was healed. He felt a pleasant tingling where her fingers were in his hair, and it seemed to spread down his neck. He allowed himself one stolen moment to enjoy the feeling and closed his eyes; it had been so long since he'd had any sort of contact with another person. He'd been so miserable and stressed lately, and having her lightly run her fingers through his hair felt irrationally relaxing. He released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, and it came out as a contented sigh.

His eyes snapped open and she immediately took her hand back from his head, looking at him in horror. "Did you just _sigh_?"

"Are you quite finished repairing the damage you have inflicted?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Yes I suppose I am. Are you alright otherwise; can you walk?"

Rolling his eyes, he got to his feet.

"Well, though I do enjoy being attacked by you unprovoked, I think I'll go."

"You weren't- I didn't- You came to me, Malfoy. Why?"

He'd been so angry that he forgot the reason he'd gone looking for her in the first place. The Charms essay. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he managed to mumble "…essay. Charms… Haven't really started."

Raising her eyebrows, she crossed her arms and jutted one hip out. "You want help with schoolwork? _Draco Malfoy_ wants my help with schoolwork?"

He scowled. "Hardly, Granger. I am more than capable of writing a paper in one night. I just find days where I haven't slept… unsavory. I was thinking more along the lines of 10 galleons for you, one paper on _The history of the Accio charm_ for myself."

She laughed indignantly. "_Hardly_, Malfoy."

"I could always imperius you and pay you nothing."

"You wouldn't." She seemed very confident in her answer, and Draco realized that she was right; he wouldn't use an unforgivable on her just for homework. He faltered. He was already exhausted from the days work on the cabinet, a particularly unsuccessful day today. The thought of staying up all night writing a paper made his stomach turn. In that moment, the weight of everything he'd been dealing with hit him all at once. The Dark Lord giving him an impossible task, his and his parents lives being in constant danger, the damn cabinet, and on top of that he had a fucking paper to write. Realizing, furiously, that his eyes were filling, he shut them tightly and clenched his fists in his pockets, the left one closing around the hairpin.

So softly that he thought he was imagining it, he felt a hand on his shoulder. And then a hand on his other shoulder. And then she was gently pulling him down, and she wrapped both of her arms around his shoulders and held him. He inhaled deeply and smelled the unique mix of lavender and peppermint that he would always associate with her. She began rubbing circles on his back comfortingly. He couldn't remember the last time someone had hugged him. He couldn't remember a time it ever feeling so good. He also couldn't understand why she was doing it.

"Granger… you hate me."

He felt, rather than heard, a small sad laugh from her. "Hate's a strong word. I do not like you, nor do I think you are a nice person. But no, I do not hate you. While I'm certain you are hiding something that is no doubt either dangerous, or illegal, or both, you are clearly struggling with it. Sometimes it helps to just have someone there."

He realized that tears had begun to leak from his eyes. Not caring that he shouldn't, he wrapped his arms around her and turned his head to place his cheek in her hair. It was softer than he would have expected. Together they slumped to the ground and he held her so tight, he was sure he was hurting her, but he couldn't bring himself to loosen his grip. It felt so bloody good to hold her. It felt _right_. She felt right.

He slid one hand up her back and into her hair. "So soft…" He didn't know if he was speaking to himself or to her anymore. She smelled amazing. Sighing, he placed his face against her shoulder, knowing he must be getting tears on her robe. His lips seemed to move involuntarily and he kissed her once there. It felt nice, and he hadn't felt nice in a long while, so he did it again; this time moving in a little closer to her neck. Not believing his luck that she wasn't pushing him away, he moved in once more past the collar of her shirt and his lips met the warm skin where her shoulder met her neck. She inhaled sharply, but still did not push him away. He opened his mouth a little wider and sucked in, and she let out her breath with a slight moan.

That sound ignited the spark that she'd lit within him. He kissed his way up her neck, ending just below her ear and flicking the sensitive spot with his tongue. Finally opening his eyes, he pulled away slightly to look into hers. They were open and warm, and she amazingly had a slight smile on her face. It was too much, she was too good. Losing all resolve, he leaned in and kissed her. It was gentle, and with each movement he was making promises to her that he knew he couldn't keep.

She kissed him back enthusiastically, even biting his bottom lip. After so many nights of misery, sharing this with her felt more than amazing. He moved her so she was sitting on his lap, her legs around his back. Breaking the kiss, he again kissed down her neck, biting her pulse point a little harder than he meant to. She let out a little yelp of pleasure. "You will be the death of me," he whispered into her collar. He buried his face there for a moment, catching his breath. She rested her cheek on the top of his head and stroked his hair.

He couldn't believe she would do this with him. He'd been cruel to her for years, and she somehow wasn't repulsed by him. If things were different, there was no way he wouldn't do all he could to make her happy. She really was amazing.

_If things were different_. Just as quickly as the elation of kissing her had come, a cold twisting in his stomach set in. Things weren't different. They were on opposite ends of a world on the brink of war. He could never have her. She would never have him. The best thing he could do for her was stay far away. He took one more moment to inhale her scent and commit it to memory, promising himself it would be the last time.

He gently pushed her away and they both stood. Should he say something? Should he just leave without acknowledging what just happened? What if she-

Her small hand closed around his wrist and she began to pull him over to her work station. "Come. I'm sure we can figure something out for your paper. Shouldn't take too long."

"You're going to help me?"

She shrugged. "Like I said, you're obviously going through a lot. We all are." And that was all she said before sitting down and beginning to write more on her paper. She looked up at him. "Paper? Quill? I'm not doing all the work."

He smiled and shook his head. How quickly she could go from everything he couldn't want, back to the know it all he was used to. But, she was willing to help him, and he didn't think he could stay awake on his own long enough to write the paper himself. He sat beside her and got to work.

Three hours later, he looked disbelievingly at his completed paper. Definitely not his best work, but he was sure it would do. She stifled a yawn and packed up her things, transfiguring the chaise back into a chair. She smiled at him and began to walk out. When her smile sent an entirely new thrill through him, he knew he had to do it.

"Granger," She looked back over her shoulder at him. "Thank you for… thank you. But this cannot happen again. It's nice to delude ourselves for a few minutes once a year, but you and I are enemies. This will not happen again."

Her face had gone blank, her mouth formed a tight line. He wasn't sure, but he thought he might see a shine in her eyes as well. She nodded once, "Fine, Malfoy. If that's what you want." And continued out of the room without looking back.

"It's not," he said to himself. "It's not at all. I don't want any of it." Gathering his paper, he shot the cabinet one last accusing glance on his way out.


End file.
